English & Other Versions 84. Bonny Barbara Allen
[incomplete- barely begun]
CONTENTS:
Bonny Barbara Allan- Ramsey (Scot) 1740 Child A a.
Sir John Grehme and Barbara Allan- 1765 Child A b.
Barbara Allen's Cruelty- (English) c.1675 Child B a.
Barbara Allen's Cruelty- (Eng.) c.1750 Child B b.
Barbara Allen's Cruelty- (Eng.) c.1730 Child B c.
Barbara Allen's Cruelty- (Eng) c.1765 Child B d. Percy
Barbara Allan- Duff (Kilbirnie) 1825 Child C
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Jessie Murray, recorded at the Edinburgh People's Festival Ceilidh, 1951 (my transcription from the CD "1951 Edinburgh People's Festival Ceilidh", Rounder CD 1786):
1. In Scotland I was born an' bred,
In Scotland I was dwellin';
I fell in love with a pretty fair maid,
And her name was Barb'ra Allen.
2. I courted her for seven long year,
Till I could court no longer;
I fell sick and very sick,
And I sent for Barb'ra Allen.
3. Barbrie Allen she was set for
To the house where she was dwellin',
And as she drew the curtain back,
"Young man, I think you're dyin'."
4. "Dyin', dear, what do you mean?
One kiss from you will cure me."
"One kiss from me you never shall have,
Though you're dyin', dyin', dyin'."
5. He turned his face back to the wa'
And his back tae Barb'ra Allen:
"Adieu, adieu, my kind friends a',
But be kind to Barb'ra Allen."
6. "O mother dear, you'll make my bed,
And make it long and narrow;
Since my true lover has died for me,
I will die for him tomorrow."
Lucy Stewart, recorded by Kenneth Goldstein in Aberdeenshire about 1960 (my transcription from the Smithsonian Folkways CD "Lucy Stewart: Traditional Singer from Aberdeenshire, Vol. 1, Child Ballads", FW03519 / FG 3519):
1. In London town where I was born
A young man there was dwellin', O;
He coorted a fair young maid,
Whose name was Barbrie Allen, O,
Whose name was Barbrie Allen, O.
2. He coorted her for seven lang years
Till he couldnae coort her langer, O;
Till he fell sick and very ill,
An' he sent for Barbrie Allen, O,
He sent for Barbrie Allen, O.
3. It's slowly she put on her clothes,
An' slowly she came walkin', O;
An' when she came to his bedside,
"Young man," she says, "you're dyin', O,
Young man," she says, "you're dyin', O."
4. "O dyin', O, I canna be;
One kiss from you would cure me, O."
"One kiss from me you shall not get,
Young man, though you are dyin', O,
Young man, though you are dyin', O."
5. "O it's look you up at my bed heid,
An' see fit you see hingin', O:
A guinea-gold watch an' a silver chain,
Gie that tae Barbrie Allen, O,
Gie that tae Babie Allen, O,
6. "O look you doun at my bedside,
An' see fit you see sittin', O:
A china basin full o tears
That I shed for Barbrie Allen, O,
That I shed for Barbrie Allen, O."
7. O she hadnae been a mile oot o toun
Till she heard the dead bells tolling, O;
And every toll it seemed to say:
"Hard-herted Barbrie Allen, O,
Hard-herted Barbrie Allen, O."
8. "O mother dear, make me my bed,
And make it long and narrow, O;
My sweetheart died for me today,
But I'll die for him tomorrow, O,
I'll die for him tomorrow, O."
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Barbara Allen.
1 In Scarlet Town, where I was born
There was a fair maid dwelling
Made every youth say:- "Well-a-day"
Her name was Barb'ra Allen.
2 All in the merry month of May
When green buds they were swelling
Young Jemmy Grove on his death bed lay
For the love of Barb'ra Allen
3 He sent his man doon through the town
To the place where she was dwelling
"You must come to my master, dear,
If you be Barb'ra Allen.
4 So slowly slowly she came up
And slowly she came nigh him
And all she said when there she came
Young man, I think you're dying.
5 He turned his face unto the wall
As deadly pangs he fell in,
Adieu, adieu, adieu to all
Adieu to Barb'ra Allen.
6 When he was dead and laid in grave
Her heart was struck with sorrow
Oh mother, mother make my bed
For I shall die tomorrow.
7 She, on her death bed as she lay
Begg'd to be buried by him
And sore repented of that day
That she did e'er deny him
8 "Farewell" she said "ye virgins all,
And shun the faults I fell in;
Henceforth take warning of the fate
Of cruel Barb'ra Allen.
Barbara Allen, version G, Mrs Thom. From the Greig-Duncan Folk Song Collection Vol.6, edited by Patrick Shuldham-Shaw and Emily B. Lyle (Aberdeen University Press), p.300. For further information on the song, its singers, and the context of performance and collection, consult Emily Lyle's editorial notes in Vol.8 of the collection. Other supporting information can be found in Gavin Greig's own writings. Reproduced by permission of the editors and Mercat Press.
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Chappell's notes for Child B: Barbara Allen's Cruelty from Popular music of the olden time: a collection of ancient songs Volume 2, by William Chappell, George Alexander Macfarren
BARBARA ALLEN.
Under this name, the English and Scotch have each a ballad, with their respective tunes. Both ballads are printed in Percy’s Reliques of Ancient Poetry, and a comparison will shew that there is no similarity in the music. It has been suggested that for “Scarlet” town, the scene of the ballad, we should read “Carlisle” town. Some of the later printed copies have “ Reading” town.
In the Douce Collection there is a different ballad under this title,-—a Newcastle edition, without date.
Goldsmith, in his third Essay, says, “The music of the finest singer is dissonance to what I felt when our old dairy-maid sung me into tears with Johnny Armstrong’s Last Good Night, or The Cruelty of Barbara Allen.”
A black-letter copy of this ballad, in the Roxburghe Collection, ii. 25, is entitled “Barbara. Allen’s Cruelty; or, The Young Man’s Tragedy: With Barbara Allen’s Lamentation for her unkindness to her Lover and herself. To the tune of Barbara Allen.” Printed for P. Brooksby, J . Deacon, J . Blare, and J . Back.
The following is the version printed by Percy: the tune from tradition, and scarcely one is better known :
[music and text]
[random versions follow]
Isabella McBride — Traditional Singer
by Linda-May Ballard Source: Folk Music Journal,Vol. 9, No. 4 (2009), pp. 501-523
1 Christmas times were drawing near And the green leaves they were falling When young squire Brown from County Down Came courting Barbara Allen.
2 He sent his servants out one night To the place where she was dwelling Saying, My master wants a word with you If you be Barbara Allen.
3 A word from me he shall not get Though I am Barbara Allen A word from me he shall not get Though I be Barbara Allen.
4 Arise, arise, her mother cried Arise and go and see him. Mother dear, do you mind the time You told me to forsake him?
5 Arise, arise, her father cried Arise and go and see him. Father dear, do you mind the time You told me you would shoot him? 6 Slowly, slowly she did arise And slowly she put on her Slowly went to his bedside Saying, My
young man, you're dying.
7 Yes, I'm bad and very bad, And on my deathbed lying, A kiss from you would ease my pain If you be Barbara Allen.
8 A kiss from me you shall not get Far better I am Barbara A kiss from me you shall not get
9 O Edmond dear, do you mind the time While in yon garden walking You plucked a rose for each fair maid But none for Barbara Allen?
10 Oh yes, I remember very well Down yon garden walking You plucked a rose for each fair maid But none for Barbara Allen 11 O Edmond dear, do you mind the time When in yon tavern drinking You drank the health for each one there But slighted Barbara Allen?
12 Yes, I remember very well Down in yon tavern drinking I drank the health for each one there My love for Barbara Allen.
13 Will you look up at my bedhead And there you'll see them hanging A guinea gold ring and the keeper too I bought for Barbara Allen?
14 Will you look down at my bedside And there you'll see it sitting A basin full of my heart's blood I shed for Barbara Allen?
15 Will you go down to yon green fields And see my flock a-feeding? Will you go down to yon churchyard And see my grave a-digging?
16 No, I'll not look down to yon green fields And see your flock a-feeding But I'll go down to yon churchyard And see your grave a-digging.
17 He turned his pale face to the wall His friends all standing by him And every word that young man heard Was cruel Barbara Allen.
18 She was not two mile from the place When the bells began a-tolling The bells that toll for him today Shall toll for me tomorrow.
19 Father, father, dig my grave Dig it long and narrow For the bells that toll for him today Shall toll for me tomorrow.
20 The one was buried in the old churchyard The other at the tower And out of one grew a red, red rose And the other a sweet-briar.
21 The one grew up in the old churchyard The other up the tower Entwined at the top in true-lover s knots Then both fell down together.
This twenty-one stanza version of the song, which Mrs McBride learned from her sister Sally, bears comparison with that of twenty stanzas recorded from Charlie Somers of north Derry by Hugh Shields in 1969.6 Shields remarks that it 'is equalled in length by only one I know. It is introduced by an unusual dialogue between the girl and her parents, v. 4-5, implying a history of domestic misunderstanding: only three other Ulster versions and one American one with Irish ancestry show something similar [...]
Remarkable too for their effect are the lover's replies to Barbara's reproaches.' While there are certain differences in detail between the version sung by Charlie Somers and Mrs McBride's, hers fits the same framework and exhibits all the features noted by Shields. Within the dialogue between Barbara and her lover, Somers s version includes the two stanzas: Oh love, look down at my bedhead And there you'll find them hanging A gay gold watch and a diamond ring I bought for Barbro Allen. I won't look down at your bedhead Nor shall I find them hanging For a gay gold watch and a diamond ring Was ne'er bought for Barbro Allen. In Mrs McBride's version, neither this sort of challenge, nor one that suggests that Barbara somehow has direct, physical responsibility for her lover's death, receives a response (stanzas 13-14). At this point, however, she has accidentally conflated the reproaches and their responses, which she usually sang as separate stanzas. There is a striking distinction between the gay gold watch and a diamond ring', hinting at courtship and engagement, in the Somers version, and A guinea gold ring and the keeper too' in Mrs McBride's, which is a straightforward statement of an intention to marry. Wedding and keeper rings were worn by many married women in nineteenth-century Ireland, including Mrs McBride's mother (engagement rings set with precious stones became much more widely available and popular in the twentieth century).
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BARBARA ALLEN
Bronson 84.2
Sharp
Sung by Jane Wheeler 1904
'Twas in the merry month of May
When flowers were all a budding
A young man on his death-bed lay
for the sake of Barb'ra Allen.
BARBARA ALLEN
Bronson 84.12
Sharp
Sung by Jim and Francis Gray 1906
In Scotland I was born and bred,
In Scotland I was dwelling,
when a young man on his deathbed lay
For the sake of barb'rous Allen.
He sent his servant to her house,
To the place where she was dwelling,
saying: You must come to my master's house
If your name is barbarous Allen.
So slowly she put on her clothes,
so slowly she came to him,
and when she came to his bedside,
She says: Young man, you're dying.
A dying man, O don't say so,
For one kiss from you will cure me.
One kiss from me you never shall have
While your poor heart is breaking.
If you look up at my bed hear
You will see my watch a-hanging,
Here is my gold ring and my gold chains
I give it to Barborus Allen.
And if you look down at my bed's foot
You will see my bowl a-standing,
And in it is the blood I have shed
for the sake of Barbrous Allen.
As I was walking down the fields
and heard some birds a-singing
And as they sung they seemed to say
Hard heated Barbrous Allen.
As I was walking down the lan'
And heard some bell a-tolling,
And as they tolled they seemed to say;
hard hearted Barbrous Allen.
As I was walking up the groves
And met his corpse a-coming:
Stop, stop, said she and steam awhile
that I may gaze all on you.
The more she gaze the more she smile
till she burst out a-laughing,
and her parents cried out: Fie for shame,.
Hard hearted Barbrous Allen.
come mother, make up my bed,
Make it both long and narrow
My true love died for me yesterday
and I will die for him to-morrow.
and he was buried in diamond stone
And she was buried in cold harbor,
And out of him sprung roses red
and out of her sweet briar
It grew and grew so very high
till it could grow no higher
And around the top growed a true lover's knot
and around it twined sweet briar.
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BARBARA ALLEN
Bronson 84.14
Chappell
In Scarlet Town, where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin'
Made ev'ry youth cry, well-a-day
her name was Barbara Allen.
all in the merry month of May,
When green buds they were swellin'
Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay,
For love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his man unto her then,
to the town where she was dwellin'
You must come to my master dear,
If your name be Barbara Allen.
For death is printed on his face,
and o'er his heart is stealin'
then haste away to comfort him
O lovely Barbara Allen.
Though death be printed on his face,
and o'er his heart is stealin,
Yet little better shall he be
For bonny Barbara Allen.
Slowly, slowly, she came up,
And slowly she came nigh him
And all she said, when there she came,
Young man, I think you're dying.
He turn'd his face unto her straight
With deadly sorrow sighing;
O lovely maid, come pity me,
I'm on my death-bed lying.
If on your death-bed you do lie,
what needs the tale you're telling',
I cannot keep you from your theath;
farewell, said Barbara allen.
He turn'd his face unto the wall,
ad deadly pangs he fell in:
Adieu! Adieu! adieu to you all,
Adieu to Barbara Allen.
As she was walkin o'er the fields,
she heard the bell a knellin;
and every stroke did seem to say,
Unworthy Barbara Allen.
she turn'd her body round about,
and spied the corps a coming
Lay down, lay down the corpse, she said,
That I may look upon him
With scornful eye she looked down,
Her cheek with laughter swellin';
Whilst all her friends cried out amian,
Unworthy Barbara Allen.
When he was dead, and laid in grave,
Her heart was struck with sorrow,
O mother, mother, make my bed,
for I shall die to-morrow.
Har hareted creature him to slight,
who loved me so dearly:
O that I had been more kind to him
when he was alive and near me!
she, on her death-bed as she lay,
begg'd to be buried by him
And sore repented of the day
That she did e'er deny him
Farewell, she said, ye virgins all,
and shun the fault I fell in:
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of Cruel Barbara Allen.
BARBARA ALLEN
Bronson 84.28
Broadwood
Noted by Mrs. Grahame from the daughters of a Kentish Squire
(the last of whom died in 1865)
In Scarlet Town where I was born
There was a fair maid dwellin'
Made ev'ry heart cry "Well-a-day!"
Her name was Barb'ra Allen.
All in the merry month of May,
when green buds they were swellin',
Young Jemmy Grove on his death bed lay
for the love of Barb'ra Allen.
BARB'RA ALLYN
Bronson 84.30
Sung by Elizabeth Cronin
Collected Jean Ritchie
It was early early in the summer-time
when the flowers were freshly springing,
a young man came from the North Country
Fell in love with Barb'ra Allyn,
Fell in love with Barb'ra Allyn
A young man came from the North country,
fell in love with Barb'ra Allyn.
He fell sick and very very bad
And more inclined to dying.
He rode till he 'ruv to the old house room
to the place where she was dwwelling
To the place where she was dwelling
He rode till he 'ruv to the old house room
To the place where she was dwelling.
very slowly she got up
And slowly she came to him
the first word she spoke when she came there
was, Young man, I fear you're dying,
Young man I fiear you're dying,
The first word she spoke when she came there
Was, Young man, I fear you're dying.
Dyiung, dying, doesn't matter at all, he said,
On kiss from you would cure me,
On kiss from me you ne'er shall see,
If I thought your heart was breaking,
If I thought your heart was breaking,
One kiss from me you ne'er shall see,
If I thought your heart was breaking.
BARBARA ALLEN
Bronson 84.33
Kidson
Benjermin Holgate - learned circa 1850
In Reading town, where I was born,
there was a fair maid dwelling,
Made every lyouth cry, Well-a-day!
Her name was Barbara Allen.
BONNY BARBARA ALLAN
Johnson -1790
Bronson 84.40
Child 84A
IT was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a falling,
That Sir John Graeme, in the West Country,
Fell in love with Barbara Allan.
He sent his men down through the town,
To the place where she was dwelling:
`O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan.'
O hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by,
`Young man, I think you're dying.'
`O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,
And 'tis a' for Barbara Allan:'
`O the better for me ye's never be,
Tho your heart's blood were a spilling.
`O dinna ye mind, young man,' said she,
`When ye was in the tavern a drinking,
That ye made the healths gae round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allan?'
He turnd his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing:
`Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allan.'
And slowly, slowly raise she up,
And slowly, slowly left him,
And sighing said, she coud not stay,
Since death of life had reft him.
She had not gane a mile but twa,
When she heard the dead-bell ringing,
And every jow that the dead-bell geid,
It cry'd, Woe to Barbara Allan!
`O mother, mother, make my bed!
O make it saft and narrow!
Since my love died for me to-day,
I'll die for him to-morrow.'
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BABIE ALLAN
Bronson 84.79
Harris
It fell about the Martmas time
When green leaves they war fallin';
That Sir John graham o'th North Kintrie
Fell in love wi Bawbie Allan
BARBARA ALLEN
Bronson 84.94
Kidson - 1891
In Scotland I was born and bred,
O, there it was my dwelling;
I courted there a pretty maid,
O, her name was Barbara Allen.
I courted her in summer time,
I courted her in winter;
For six long years I courted her,
A-thinkin I should win her.
BARBRY ELLEN
Bronson 84.156
Ritchie
Sung by Jimmy Stewart
In London I was bred and born,
In Scotland was my dwellin, O
I fell in love with a nice young girl
And her name was Barbru Allan, o
And her name was Barbru Allan, o
I courted her for seven long years;
I could nae cort her langer, o
but I fell sick and bvery ill
and I sent for Barbru Allan, o
And I sent for Barbru Allan, o
It's when she came tae my bed side
she says Youn man you're dying, 0
O dying, I said it cannot be
One kiss from you will cure me, 0
One kiss from me you'll never get
Long's your hard heart's a breakin, o
Long's your hard heart's a breakin, o
O turn my back untae the wa'
And my face frae Barbru Allan,
It's adieu to me and adieu to you,
Be kind tae Barbru Allan, o
Be kind tae Barbru Allan , o
But loook ye up at my bed-heid
And you'll see what you'' see hangin there,
A guinea gold watch and a silver chian
Gae that tae Barbru Allan, o
Gae that tae Barbru Allan, o
But look ye doun at my bed fet
and you'll see what you'll see stan'in there,
A china basin fu' o' teras
Was shed bro Barbru allan, o
She was not one mile frae the toun
she heard the deid bells tollin, o
and every toll they seemed to say
Hard hearted Barbru allan, o
Hard hearted Barbru Allan, o
O Mother, Mother, make my bed,
and make it long and narrow,
My true love died for me today,
and I'll die for him tomorrow
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[Dave R. - I sing a version that I learnt first hand from an old Sussex farmer, George Belton. The theme is the same.
The words are similar to the ones written in this thread except for verse where she spurns him because he didn't buy her a drink!!
Barbara Allen (collected from George Belton)
'Twas in the merry month of May,
The flowers were a-blooming;
A young man on his deathbed lay
For the love of Barbara Allen O,
For the love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his gallant serving man
To the place where she was dwelling.
He said you ,must come to my master's house
If your name be Barbara Allen O,
If your name be Barbara Allen.
So quickly she put on her hat,
And quickly she descended,
Until she came to his bedside,
She said young man you're a-dying O
She said young man you're a-dying.
Oh don't say so, when a kiss from you,
A kiss from you shall save me.
A kiss from me you never shall have,
Even though your heart is a-breaking O,
Even though your heart is a-breaking.
For remember it was but the other night,
You were in a alehouse drinking.
You offered a glass to all around,
But none to Barbara Allen O
But none to Barbara Allen.
Look down, look down by my bedside
You'll see a bowl there standing.
It's filled with the blood
That I shed for the love.
For the love of Barbara Allen O,
For the love of Barbara Allen.
Look up, look up from my bedside,
You'll see a gold watch hanging.
Give that gold watch and that gold chain
To hardhearted Barbara Allen O
To hearhearted Barbara Allen.
Dear mother, mother make my shroud.
Make it both long and narrow.
For my true love has died tonight.
And I will die the morrow O
And I will die the morrow.
They both were buried in the same churchyard
They were buried close together.
And out of him there grew a rose,
And out of her a briar O
And out of her a briar.
They grew, they grew to the church steeple top
Till they could grow no higher.
And there entwined in a true lover's knot
For all true lovers to admire O
For all true lovers to admire.
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Ancient Irish Music: Comprising One Hundred Airs Hitherto Unpublished, edited by Patrick Weston Joyce; 1873
The English and Scotch have each a ballad named Barbara Allen ; and the words of the two ballads, though differing considerably, are only varieties of the same original. Goldsmith, in his second essay, after speaking of the pleasant retirement of his early life, says :—-“ The Music of the finest singer is dissonance to what I felt when our old dairy-maid sung me into tears with Johnny Armstrong's last good night, or the cruelty of Barbara Allen.” These word would lead to the belief that a version of Barbara Allen was current in the midland counties of Ireland, in the time of Goldsmith’s childhood ; and this belief receives some confirmation from the fact that I have heard the ballad among the peasantry of Limerick. In the year 1847 a young girl named Ellen Ray, of Glenroe, in the county of Limerick, sang it for me, with such power and feeling, that the air became at once stereotyped on my memory. I did not take a copy of the words, which I now regret very much; but I remember two lines, which vary from the corresponding lines in the English and
Scotch versions :—-
“ And every toll that the death-bell gave
Was “I died for you Barbary Ellen.”
The air to which the ballad is sung in England is quite different from that which they have in Scotland: the Irish air differs from both, and may I think, compare favourably with either.
---------------
Barbara Allen
Fred Jordan, A Shropshire Lad – English folk singer, Veteran VTD148CD, ballad recorded 1952
It was one day in the month of May
The flowers they was bloomin'
And Johnny on his sickbed lay
For the sake of Barb'ra Allen
And slowly slowly she came up
And slowly she came nigh him
An' all she said when there she came:
Young man, I think you're dying
Poor Johnny died on one fine day
And Barb'ra died on the 'morrow
Johnny died for Barb'ra's love
And Barb'ra died for sorrow
On Johnny's grave there grew a thorn
On Barb'ra's grew a briar
They tangled and, they twisted then
For the sake of one another
Look up, look up by my bedside
Go find a bangle hangin'
With my gold watch and silver chain
All left for Barb'ra Allen
----------------
Bronson 156. "Barbru Allan"
Sung by Jimmy Stewart, Forfar, Scotland, n.d. Gordon-Pickory Collector Ltd. Eds., LP rcc., LP 1201(A7), coll. and
ed. Jean Ritchie.
1. (In) London I was bred and born,
(ln) Scodand was my dwellin, O,
i fell in love with a nice young girl
And her name was Barbru Allan, O,
And hcr name was Barbru Allan, O.
2. I courted her for sevcn long Years;
I could nae court her langer, O,
But I fcll sick and vcry ill
And I snt for Barbru Allan, O,
And I sent for Barbru Allan, O.
3. It's when she came tae mY bed-side
She says, "Young man, You're dying, O."
"O dying," I said, "it cannot be,
Onc kiss from you wull cure me, O."
"One kiss from mc you'll never get,
Long's your hard heart's a-breakin, O,
Long's your hard heart's a-breakin, O."
4. "O turn my back untae the wa'
And my face frac Barbru Allan,
It's adieu to me and adicu to You,
Be kind tac Barbru Allan, O,
Bc kind tac Barbru Allan, O.
5. "But lmk ye up at my bed-heid
- And you'll see what you'll see hangin there,
A guinea gold watch and a silver chain,
Gae that tae Barbru Allan, O,
Gae that tae Barbru Allan, O.
"But look ye doun at my bcd-fct
And you'll see what you'll see stan'in thcrc-
A china basin fu' o' tears
Was shcd for Barbru Allan, O."
She was not one mile frae the toun
She hcard thc dcid bclls tollin, O,
And every toll they seemed to say,
Hard-hearted Barbru Allan, O,
Hard-hearted Barbru Allan, O.
8. "O Mother, Mother, make my bcd,
And make it long and narrow,
My true love died for me today,
And I'll die for him tomorrow."
--------------------------
Parody of BA
The author is identified as Sir Robert Murray Keith, 1732-1795. According to the author of the annotation (William Stenhouse, I think), it was written in 1752, when Keith was an officer in a regiment of foot raised in Scotland for the Dutch service, and was published in "a collection entitled " The Caledoniad," London, 1775, 3 vols. 12mo; which contains several other poems by the same hand, and written about the same time." I'm sure the parody would only work for people who knew the ballad intimately – I wonder if BA was a favourite in the officers' mess. Anyway here it is, as given in the 1839 annotated SMM:
A Paraphrase of the first four verses of Barbara Allan ; made on Lord D[ouglas]'s regiment receiving orders to march from Maestrecht to Sas van Ghent, in Dutch Flanders. By Sir R—t M—y K—h.
It fell about the month of June,
Or in the month of July,
That Jan de Back,* in the Low Countrie,
Did use us very cruelly.
A letter by the post he sent
With news that was right dreary,
That we must march to Sas van Ghent,
Of which we'll soon be weary.
Rise up, Rise up, young men," he said,
" 'Tis time that ye were stepping ;
" Of the bad air be not afraid,
" Take aye the t'other chappin.
" For dinna ye mind as well as me,
" Breda, where ye were lying ;
" The lads that drank came off Scot free,
" When the sober folk lay dying ?"
* Secretary at War
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Jim Carroll: These are the two version they got from English Travellers.
Barbry Ellen
from Caroline Hughes, Wareham, Dorset (1962)
O, in Reading Town where I was born,
There's a fair young lady dwelling;
I picked her out for to be my bride,
And her name was Barbry Ellen, Ellen,
And her name was Barbry Ellen.
Now, mother dear, you make up my bed,
You'll make it soft and easy;
That I might die for the sake of love,
And that she might die for sorrow, sorrow,
And that she might die for sorrow.
Now, mother dear, you'll look up over my head,
You'll see my gold watch standing;
There's my gold watch and my guinea gold ring,
Will you 'liver it to Barbry Ellen, Ellen?
Will you 'liver it to Barbry Ellen?
Now, mother dear, look at the side of my bed,
You'll see a bowl there standing,
It is full of tears that I've lost this night
For the loss of Barbry Ellen, Ellen,
For the loss of Barbry Ellen.
Now, as I were a-walking across the fields,
I met a corpse a-coming;
(O, you put down, my six young lambs)
(O, put him down, my six young lads?)
That I might well gaze on him, on him,
That I might well gaze on him.
While (strollily) I walked on, (strolled I, strolling there?)
I heard the (knell a-telling), (bell a-tolling?)
And as it tolled, O, it seemed to say :
'Hard-hearted Barbry Ellen, Ellen,
Hard-hearted Barbry Ellen!'
Burber Helan
From Nelson Ridley Wineham, Kent (1974)
It was in Ireland where I were borned,
I met a fair maid a-dwelling;
Young Johnny Rose, put on your clothes,
Young man, I think you're dying.
Look at the side of my bedside,
You'll find a vase a-standing;
There's a gay gold watch and a diamond ring,
That's left for Burber Helen.
O, clerky, clerky, dig me my grave,
And dig it long and narrow;
My true love died for me last night,
I'll die for her tomorrow.
-----------------------
Barbro Allen, song / Charlie Somers, singing in English
Section: Sound Recordings
Tagged: Derry
00:00
Early early in the spring
When flowers they were blooming
It’s a young man fell bad in love,
I hear he’s just a-dying.
2
He sent a page to his love’s house,
A page unto her dwelling,
– My master wants one word of you
If you be Barbro Allen.
3
– One word of me he shall not get
If he was just a-dying,
Nor the better of me he never shall be
If I saw his heart’s blood flying.
4
– Arise, arise, her mother says,
Arise and go and see him.
– Oh mother, don’t you mind the time
You told me to forget him?
5
– Arise, arise, her father says,
Arise and go and see him.
– Oh father, don’t you mind the time
You told me to forget him?
6
Slowly slowly she arose
And slowly she put on her
And slowly to her true lover’s house,
– I hear, young man, you’re lying.
7
– Oh yes, my love, I’m very bad
And death is in my dwelling,
But one sweet kiss’ll make me well
If you be Barbro Allen.
8
– Oh, one sweet kiss you shall not get
If you were just a-dying,
Nor the better of me you never shall be
If I saw your heart’s blood flying.
9
Oh love, look down at my bed head
And there you’ll find them hanging,
A gay gold watch and a diamond ring
I bought for Barbro Allen.
10
– I won’t look down at your bed head
Nor I shall not find them hanging
For a gay gold watch and a diamond ring
Was ne’er bought for Barbro Allen.
11
Oh love, oh love, don’t you mind the time
When in yon garden walking
You pulled a flower to each fair maid
But none to Barbro Allen?
12
– Yes, my love, I mind the time
When in yon garden walking
I pulled a flower to every fair maid
And a rose to Barbro Allen.
13
– Oh love, oh love, don’t you mind the time
When in yon tavern drinking
You drank a health to every fair maid
But none to Barbro Allen?
14
– Oh yes, my love, I mind the time
When in yon tavern drinking
I drank a health to every fair maid
And a toast to Barbro Allen?
15
As she went o’er her father’s stile
She heard the death bell toning
And every tone it seemed to say
– Hard-hearted Barbro Allen.
16
As she went o’er her father’s stile
She saw the funeral coming,
– Leave him down, leave him down, till I see him once more.
– Hard-hearted Barbro Allen.
17
– Oh mother, mother, make my bed,
It’s make it long and narrow;
My true love died for me today,
I’ll die for him tomorrow.
18
– Oh father, father, dig my grave,
It’s dig it long and narrow;
My true love died for me today,
I’ll die for him tomorrow.
19
The one was buried in the church-yard
And the other in the bower
And out of the one grew a red red rose
And out of the other grew a briar.
20
Oh, they grew, they grew and they twisted through
Till they could grow no higher
And they both grew intill a true-lover’s knot
And there remains (spoken) forever.
Barbro Allen, song / Charlie Somers, singing in English Image
Discover: Shamrock,
Rose and Thistle
Words/music for printing
Charlie sang ‘on demand’ during a pause from haymaking when I called on him on a sunny afternoon with Eddie Butcher. His ‘Barbara Allen’, learnt from his mother, is equalled in length by only one I know (F). It introduces an unusual dialogue between the girl and her parents, v. 4–5, implying a history of domestic misunderstanding; only three other Ulster versions and one American one with Irish ancestry show something similar (FOW; Flanders II 285–7). Remarkable too for their effect are the lover’s replies to Barbara’s reproaches, v. 12, 14; the garden scene, though commonplace in Ireland, has come to my notice elsewhere only in one or two Scots versions. These features contribute to a well-ordered story of love turned tragic through misunderstanding, estrangement and lost opportunity, correcting the tendencies, for which this ballad has been criticised, to degenerate into absurdity or parody.
ITMA Reference Number: 806-ITMA-MP3
Main Performer: Charlie Somers
Title: SRT 8. Barbro Allen, song [sound recording] / Charlie Somers, singing in English
Alternative Title: Bonny Barbara Allen ; Mary Ellen
Section: Sound Recordings
Recording Location: The house of Charlie Somers, The Bog, Bellarena, Co. Derry
Recording Date: 18 July 1969
Copyright: Shields Family
Physical Description: 1 computer file (MP3 file, ca. 9 min.) : digital, stereo
Format: MP3
Subject: Ireland: Singing in English
Creator: Hugh Shields
Language: English
Collection: Hugh Shields Collection, HS 6910
----------------------
http://www.itma.ie/digitallibrary/sound/barbara_allen_jimmy_crowley
Barbara Allen, song / Jimmy Crowley, singing in English
Section: Sound Recordings
Tagged: No tags
00:00
This track is part of the
Góilín Song Project
Barbara Allen, song / Jimmy Crowley, singing in English
ITMA Reference Number: 1020-ITMA-MP3
Main Performer: Jimmy Crowley
Title: Barbara Allen, song [sound recording] / Jimmy Crowley, singing in English
Section: Sound Recordings
Recording Date: [n.d.]
Copyright: Performer(s) and Irish Traditional Music Archive
Physical Description: 1 computer file (MP3 file, 4 min 59 sec) : digital, stereo
Subject: Ireland: Singing in English
Language: English
Corporate Author: Góilín Singers Club
Collection: Brian Doyle Collection
URL: http://www.goilin.com
-----------------
Barbara Allen sung by A. Wardhill
Source
Traditional Tunes
Year
1891
Location
Goathland, Yorkshire, England
Collector
Frank Kidson
In Reading town, there I was born,
In Scotland was my dwelling;
O, there I courted a pretty fair maid -
Her name was Barbara Allen.
I courted her for months and years,
Thinking that I should gain her;
And I oft times vowed and did declare
No other man should have her.
I sent a man to yonder town,
To ask for Barbara Allen.
Saying "You must come to my master's house,
If your name be Barbara Allen."
So slowly she put on her clothes,
So slowly she came to him;
And when she got to his bedside,
"Young man," she said, "You're dying."
If you look under my pillow
You'll find a napkin lying,
And it is soaked with my heart's blood,
For the love of Barbara Allen.
He put his hand right out of bed,
Thinking to draw her nigh him;
But she whipped her heels and away she ran,
Straightway from him she flew.
So he turned his face unto the wall,
And death came slowly to him;
"Adieu, adieu to all my frends,
Farewell to Barbara Allen."
As she was walking across yon fields
She heard his death-bell tolling
And every toll it seemed to say -
Hard-hearted Barbara Allen.
"O dear mother, make my bed,
And make it fit to die on;
There's a young man died for me to-day
And I'll die for him to-morrow."
And he did die on one good day,
And she did die on the morrow;
O, he did die for the love of her,
And she did die for sorrow.